Retribution aka I hate that title, too!
by hklbry
Summary: Wilson tries to force House to accept retribution. Nobody makes House do anything! Usually. Includes or mentions alcohol, a sex toy, slapping, and man-on-man action. You've been warned.
1. Hit Me!

Title: Retribution ('cause I got nothing for a title)

Rating: NC-17, Minors must be accompanied by an adult preferably one they know and not one they paid to get them in…Oh like I'm the only one who did that as a teen!

Pairings: House/Wilson

Warnings: There's some slapping, mention of a sex toy, and man-on-man action

Summary: Wilson tries to force House to accept retribution. Nobody makes House do anything! Usually.

A/N: Based on the LJ Dark Wilson Community prompt "Penance", but it's really more Manipulative!Wilson and Darkish!House. It's way too freakin' long so any mistakes prove how much I hate reading my own work. I can't go through it again! *sob!*

House was so tired the phrase "bone weary" came to mind. His big new, exciting case turned out to be a non-starter. After one test his theory had been confirmed and the patient treated. She was already feeling better and would probably be released tomorrow. Then Cuddy heard about the successful diagnosis, somehow, and before he could interrogate his team to find out who the latest snitch was, he found himself in the clinic. Wilson was too busy to distract him and had spent most of the week acting like he was mad at House and he hadn't even done anything. In fact, House had gone out of his way to not be a jerk to Wilson. He wasn't any good at it, but he was trying to be a supportive friend. House could hear his dad's voice saying "No points for trying, worm". He involuntarily remembered his dad explaining that at least the maggots he trained would turn into Marines. House would never be anything but a worm. House groaned at the unwanted memory. He'd rather be in the clinic than walking down memory lane.

And hadn't the clinic been a trip to the circus – a trip for a coulrophobe allergic to sawdust? He had tried to make a game out of it to try to make the day go by faster. That never worked for long and today hadn't been an exception. He dragged himself back and forth from room to room, banged his shins on a dozen exam table steps and hit his shoulder at least three times fitting through the doors that were too small and clearly not designed to accommodate his gait. Every patient seemed to be more moronic than the one before. Every time he tried to sneak away Cuddy would pop up and send him back. She hadn't even been wearing anything interesting today. On the plus side, he hadn't been commanded to fill out billing paperwork, out dated charts, or referral requests. Then again, he could have pretended to do them and sat at his desk in relative physical comfort. On the other hand, paper work sucked donkey dong. He needed to fire one of his fellows and hire a paper jockey. They kept quitting and coming back before he could get the paper work to hire somebody to do the paper work finished. The next time one of them quit he was going to make it stick. First thing tomorrow, or at least nearly first, he was going to fill out the forms and exit interview sheets for each of them and leave the date blank.

"I hate you, House. I can't work under these conditions any longer," he mocked in a childish falsetto. Next time he'd just agree and hand them the forms to sign. It was Kutner's turn next, but he seemed to be able to vent his frustrations without stamping his feet. Then again, even House had quit recently so maybe it was something environmental other than him. House bounced the back of his head against the couch cushion. He really didn't want to think about the present either. And he didn't have a future. Oh god, he thought, I'm so breaking out the Stagg whiskey and blazing up some weed.

House only managed the whiskey before he fell asleep on the couch. He figured he'd get a nap in before the demons woke him and he had to start the whole cycle over. It wasn't a demon that woke him, but a thumping noise outside his door. His first thought were the techno-goth Armenians next door, but they'd moved out a month or so ago. He thought about investigating, but realized his motivation to solve the sound was far less than his antipathy at standing. After a moment a sound of metal scratching his door was followed by what sounded suspiciously like a key in the lock. His mind immediately wandered to an unknown assailant breaking in and, surprised at finding an occupant, panics and stabs him to death. He hoped it wasn't like that, but maybe he could stay quiet and the intruder would strangle him. He hadn't been strangled before. Beaten, stabbed, shot, electrocuted, overdosed, even thrown from a third floor window, but strangled? Not yet. At least it would be new.

Instead he realized it was Wilson as he threw open the door and stumbled in gracelessly. Drunk Wilson wasn't new, but it was pretty rare. Wilson took several steps before turning around, staggering back, closing the door, and lurching towards the couch. He collapsed next to House and looked around confused.

"Did you move the couch? It seems a lot farther away from the door than it used to be." Something about Drunk Wilson that Drunk House couldn't quite put his finger on wasn't right.

"No, I moved the door. Now that you mention it, moving the couch would have been easier." Wilson made a snorting laugh sound that made House smile. At least he wasn't crying.

Wilson held up his hand clenched around a key with only the edge sticking out between his fingers. If it had been anybody else House would have thought he was going to punch him with the key between his knuckles to cause more damage. With Wilson he waited to hear what he had to say. After a few false starts Wilson finally found his voice.

"I wa…you coud…can I have this?" House reached for his pills as his buzz began to slip away.

"It's your key. 'Your' indicates you already have it. It's an adjective like _stupid_ Wilson." He popped a pill as his usual preferred punctuation. Wilson shook his head dramatically. His hair ruffled and tossed loosely. House wondered what could have sent Wilson out in the middle of the night without mousse. It was only 10:30, but he preferred the image of a much later hour. House wondered if that was what seemed off. Wilson drunk on a school night at 10:30 was beyond rare. It was like a previously thought extinct species that was miraculous found deep in the Amazon.

"Not mine. I gave mine back. I stole this one off the, you know, that little, you know, that thing above the door." House was officially amused. He fought back the urge to tousle Wilson's hair.

"The lintel - that's my spare key from the lintel. I wondered what all that thumping was."

"It was really high," Wilson said stretching out the last word.

"Sounds like it isn't the only one. Sorry, I had the door elongated when I moved it." Wilson nodded as though that made perfect sense.

"So can I have it?"

"Sure. I'll replace it with your old key." House's curiosity was nagging away at him and he decided to risk a potential personal conversation. "Anything special going on tonight? You look like you drank what I have."

"Oh, House," Wilson sighed further collapsing into the couch and sinking onto the corner. "I've screwed everything up."

"Everything isn't within your realm of influence, my liege." House hoped this wasn't going to turn into something involving crying.

"You always do that," Wilson said with a hint of indignation. "Do you think you're the only one that can fuck things up?" House decided he'd rather have the crying.

"I screw up lots of things. I only do one thing well. You do lots of things well and have screwed up nothing." Wilson sat up quickly and put his head in his hands.

"I have. My brother for one." House wasn't sure if there was going to be bemoaning or crying or anger. He wasn't sure how to defuse the situation without knowing which situation was imminent. It also didn't really matter since he was terrible at defusing any emotional situation.

"Your brother isn't your fault. If anything I'm sure he lasted as long in society as he did only because you took such good care of him."

"I should have helped him more. And you, I haven't taken good care of you."

"But I'm not your brother. I've even got a certificate saying I'm mentally competent to stand trial. I'm not a house plant you need to take care of or a neighbor's fish you promised to feed." Wilson shook his head violently before abruptly grabbing House's shoulders.

"How can you not hate me? I've done so much trying to help you, but it never turns out that way. I've even turned you in to the police. That was a horrible thing to do. And how do you get even with me?"

"I stole $50 from your wallet, didn't pay you back for everything you lost, and stole food from your plate even when I wasn't hungry." Wilson tightened his grip on House's shoulders and shook him lightly.

"You think that makes up for my … betrayal? You should have punished me! Maybe if you had I wouldn't have kept on ruining your life." House exhaled loudly. Wilson's grip loosened. He pulled Wilson's hands off his shoulders and momentarily questioned where he should put them before putting them awkwardly on Wilson's leg.

"You haven't ruined my life. My life was ruined long before I met you!" When Wilson looked up at him with big, sympathetic eyes House decided to change tactics. "You are the only thing in my life that consistently doesn't suck."

"You don't know half the things I've done to you," Wilson said evenly.

"I know you haven't done anything you need to feel bad about. Now I've got some Hazmat here and some chronic in the bedroom. We can have a little party and pretend this awful day never happened." House started to stand, but Wilson pulled him back down.

"What would you do for me?" House didn't know how to respond. "What would you do?" Repeating the question didn't help.

"I don't know, Wilson. What do you want? Money? Food? I'm not good at giving you a shoulder to cry on, but I'm trying. I can't do empathy, but I'm trying for sympathy. If you tell me what you want, I can try to do it. I'll probably fail, but you know me well enough to know that." House was having a hard time looking at Wilson. He was so tired. "If I can help you, I'll try," he said wearily, "but I can't help myself." House forced himself to make eye contact. "What do you want me to do," he asked sincerely.

"I want you to hit me," Wilson said in the same monotone. House looked shocked, then confused, then amused.

"I thought you were serious for a moment. Man, I've had more to drink than I thought. Let me get you a glass." Wilson pulled House down again this time harder.

"I am serious, House. I know you want to hit me. You must! I've been a horrible friend to you."

"No, you haven't," House said emphatically. "What has gotten into you? I'm the bad friend. I killed your girlfriend." House hoped that would shock Wilson into normalcy.

"No, it was an accident. If I hadn't lied to you about my schedule, you would have known I was working and wouldn't have called me."

"Oh please! We can agree it was an accident, but it had nothing to do with you lying. I was so drunk I didn't even call your cell phone. I'm amazed I remembered any number to dial. If I'd charged my cell phone – no accident. If I'd come home to get drunk – no accident. If I'd let Amber take me home – no accident. If a garbage truck driver hadn't been text messaging – no accident. It's just one of those shitty things that happen in life."

Wilson continued shaking his head and sucked on his lips.

"I've lied to you about patients."

"I know, but you never did it maliciously."

"How can you know that?"

"I know you," House replied, his voice getting louder than he wanted.

"No, you don't. Just, just punch me. Tell me I've fucked up and hit me."

"No. I do know you. You feel bad about things you can't control. You want to punish yourself for it, but you want me to do the dirty work." Wilson moved closer and grabbed House's hands. He seemed almost frantic.

"I've tried to punish myself. It isn't enough anymore. I need you to do it. Hit me." House had a sudden flash of Isabella Rossellini.

"I'm not going to hit you," he said adamantly even though part of him felt like it for making them have this conversation.

"You've hit patients. You've hit the families of patients. You've hit strangers at bars. You hit Chase and sometimes I think you think of him like a son. Why can't you hit me?" House didn't say anything. "Is it because you love me?" House tried to find geometric patterns in the carpet. "They say nobody can hurt you as much as somebody you love. I've hurt you so much. I need you to hurt me."

"You're trying to goad me into punching you. It's not going to happen," House said with resolve. Wilson put his hands on House's face and turned him to face him. House found himself frozen. Unexpected physical contact always unnerved him and he was sure Wilson knew that.

"How much do I need to hurt you before you hurt me?" Wilson paused as if he was steeling himself. "I know your secrets, things you don't know I know. Do I need to use them to hurt you? Would that be enough? Do I need to tell you how I learned your secrets? Will that do it?" House still felt exhausted, but now he felt small. He felt like he was slipping away. Why couldn't he disappear or just fade away? House had a lazy desire to not exist like he had as a kid and like he found himself feeling increasingly lately.

"I don't know what you think you know, but you should know anything you say won't make me hurt you, but it will make you feel like crap tomorrow."

"Did you know I slept with Stacy," Wilson blurted out. House smirked.

"Did you know I'm not a complete idiot? Of course I know." Wilson was stunned.

"Wait, you knew?" House noted silently that Wilson didn't seem nearly as inebriated as he had moments earlier.

"Yep. Not a secret. No wonder all your wives find out about your indiscretions. You weren't exactly sneaky." Wilson wasn't giving up.

"But did you know I _fucked_ her before she left you?" House shook his head nonplussed.

"You do think I'm an idiot. Yes, I know. I know you did it before the infarction. I know you did it while I was in the hospital. I know you did it while I confided to you that she was going to leave me. I know you did it when she moved out. I thought she was going to be Mrs. Wilson number 3 before Julie came around." Wilson looked disgusted.

"You knew? I betrayed you with the only woman you've ever loved, didn't tell you for years and you still don't want to hurt me, punish me in some way, take something from me?"

"I know I could never make either of you happy. I liked to think the two of you could find a little happiness together." House didn't add that it hurt him more that he couldn't make them happy than anything either of them could do.

"You love me so unconditionally that you forgave me?" House didn't answer. He didn't like that particular L word being bandied about. "If I give you details will that be enough? The first time, she'd only been with you a few months. You had to go to a conference. You asked me to look in on her. She needed help with the garbage disposal. Before I got off the phone I knew what was going to happen."

"You don't have to tell me. I've imagined it all."

"I don't remember what I was mad at you for, but I told her about it. She told me about some embarrassment you'd caused her." Wilson was getting angry. House wasn't sure if he was angry at himself or if he was mad at House. He guessed it was both.

"It's okay, Wilson. I've done far worse to nicer people."

"I fucked her in your bed! I screwed her on your floor. I did her on your kitchen table while you were knocked out in the bedroom on your post-op meds. We even joked about how you were so out of it we could have done it in your room with you there! I used you as my excuse to not go home to Bonnie and Stacy told you she had to get out for a little while and we'd meet at a hotel."

"I get it! You guys bonded over me being a bastard. If I'd been a better friend, a better lover, it wouldn't have happened." Wilson clenched his jaw.

"If we had been better people we wouldn't have done that to you."

"Are you stoned? I don't blame either of you." House scooted away from Wilson. "Are you drunk? I thought you were, but you seem pretty sober right now." Now he was angry. It was in the moment. Wasn't he just philosophizing how the past wasn't worth thinking about and there was no future? The present, this moment, was all he had and Wilson was playing him.

"I've been drinking, but I'm not as drunk as I need to be." He picked up House's glass and drank it down in a large gulp. There was a squint to Wilson's eyes as the whiskey burned.

"That's sipping bourbon. If you do that again you'll end up in the ER with alcohol poisoning." Wilson glared at House. He seemed to make a decision.

"Whose betrayal hurt more, me or Stacy? Which of us did you love more?" House stood up and limped around the room.

"I'm not hurt. I wasn't even surprised! I knew the moment you picked me up at the airport from the conference. I was disappointed that neither of you thought I was worth putting in some effort to hide it from me."

"Which of us, House?" House ran his hand over his face and wished Wilson would be gone when he opened his eyes.

"I'm more hurt that you seem to be trying to provoke me. Do you want me to tell you I'm angry at you? I'm not. Do you want me to say I love you? Fine. I love you. Unconditionally? Until I find the condition, yes!" Wilson stood up and blocked House's path. He was smiling disconcertingly.

"Do you love me like a brother or like you loved your college boyfriend?" Now House was shocked. "Stacy told me all about him, at least, everything you told her. I'm sure there were others, but she said she worried he had been the love of your life. Do you love me like that?"

House shoved Wilson out of his way and limped back towards the couch. Wilson grabbed him from behind in a bear hug.

"Would you rather talk about how good it felt to be inside him? Or do you want to talk about how much you want to be inside me?" House shrugged out of Wilson's hold.

"You want me to feel hurt? Ok, I'm feeling hurt. I've told you I have sex with men. You said it wasn't a big deal. Do you think I've been pining away for you all these years? Ego much?" House had backed himself against the desk which only added to his feeling claustrophobia. "I don't think you want the gory details of me blowing Trevor so what do you want?" Wilson moved in very quickly invading his shrinking space.

"I already told you. I think you love me more than you loved Stacy, more than…" he paused recalling the name House had leaked. "…Trevor, more than anyone you ever had or ever will love. Admit it. Admit it," Wilson parroted, his face inches away from House's.

"I think you're losing it."

"I think you chased after me when I left because you couldn't stand the idea of losing me like you lost him. You say I have a hard time losing people. You have a hard time losing me."

"I think, no, I know, I want to stop talking about this."

"If you don't want to talk, what do you want to do?" Wilson grabbed House's crotch making House jump back. His back hit a sharp corner. He shoved Wilson off him; this time hard. He didn't feel it. While House was exhausted, Wilson seemed exhilarated.

"Leave me alone," House shouted with more force than he thought he could manage at the moment.

"You don't want to be alone. You liked pushing me, didn't you? Why do you have to make everything so hard? Why do you make me hurt you more?"

"Again, what do you want from me?" House regretted how angry he sounded. He didn't have any right to be angry at Wilson. Wilson hadn't said anything that wasn't true.

"I want you to hurt me back." House inwardly collapsed. They were back at square one.

"I don't know how to do what you want." He stared into Wilson's eyes looking for an answer. He hoped Wilson would drop it.

"I know," Wilson said gently. "But this is what I need from you or I'll leave and I won't be back this time. I can't keep hurting you with no retribution."

"How about just not hurting me?" House didn't think he'd live through Wilson leaving again. Wilson was right. He couldn't stand the idea of losing him again. He felt like a frightened child. It was too familiar a feeling. It was an unfortunate reminder of why he hated himself.

"I've tried, but I keep screwing up. Maybe if we find a way to level the playing field again it'll be different. The way it is now?" Wilson shook his head. "I've got too many marks in my column. You need to make things even." House let out a shaky breath.

"Ok, I'll hit you," he said just above a whisper. Wilson smiled at him benevolently.

"I'm sorry, House. That might have worked before, but Stacy, Trevor, I shouldn't have brought that up. Now you'll have to do more or we won't be even." Wilson put a hand on House's cheek. "You love me. You want me. Now you need to take me."

House stood still and felt himself fall into the analytic mode he used to cope with situations he wasn't properly equipped for like Chase confiding in him or Cameron crying or, he now realized, his best friend offering himself to him. It made him feel alien, an alien trying to understand human behavior, an alien unable to understand human interactions.

Wilson staggered forward until he was pressing against House.

"Have you dreamed about this?" House could smell the oaky Stagg on Wilson's breath. It somehow added to the detached, trance-like feeling coming over him. With effort he stopped himself from admitting his Wilson masturbatory fantasies. If it had been anybody but Wilson he would have damned the consequences … but it was Wilson – not a pro or a pick up, but Wilson. He struggled to think of Wilson's motives. Maybe he was just trying to embarrass House or have something new to lord over him. He wondered how far Wilson would go before mocking him for his unseemly desires. He couldn't live with it if …

"House, stop thinking." Wilson brushed his lips across the stubble on House's cheek. His insides ached to make his brain stop. Instead he tried to push Wilson away again, but Wilson had learned his lesson and had a firm grip around his waist. Wilson pulled House closer in retaliation.

House closed his eyes and tried to commit the feeling of Wilson's body flush against his to memory. He was sure he'd probably never see him again and he certainly would never feel their bodies tremble against each other again. The idea of never seeing Wilson again helped him find words to say.

"You're not gay." It wasn't much, but House had managed to say it. It was far less colorful than the words floating through his mind that threatened to spill out. He took some measure of pride in that.

"Neither are you. Isn't that what you always say? 'Just sex'?" Wilson took a half step back and ran a hand from around House's waist to the front of his jeans. He groped denim until he found House's stiffening cock. He closed his eyes more in embarrassment than lust. Wilson shouldn't see him like this. He shouldn't _be_ like this. "What turns you on more – me or being angry at me?" House hated the weakness of his flesh. He needed to get control.

"I'm not angry." He didn't sound angry, but he wished he did or at least sound like anything except the needy rasp he heard.

Wilson stopped groping him and took his other hand off his waist. House assumed this was when Wilson would call him pathetic and storm out forever. Instead he felt Wilson pull at the button of his jeans. He looked down and marveled at Wilson's hands struggling against the fastening. Something about the uneasiness of the situation and the sudden graceless hands of Wilson made House chortle. This was his Wilson – uncertain, unsteady, unsure.

"Don't laugh," Wilson griped sounding more like himself than he had since he arrived. "I've never done this before." Wilson pulled his hands away from House's jeans and ran his hands through his own hair. He made uneasy eye contact with House. "I'll get this, just give me a minute." House smiled then raked his teeth against his lower lip.

"That is what turns me on more – you being you." House placed a tentative hand on Wilson's cheek. "If only you really wanted a miserable, old bastard like me," he said shaking his head. "There's plenty of bourbon left. Help yourself to the couch." House started to stagger towards the bedroom, but Wilson grabbed his arms roughly.

"Don't … don't dismiss me! I need this. I need you to do this to me. Take from me what you want. Use me!" Now House couldn't pretend he wasn't angry.

"You need to be punished? And, what, touching me is punishment? Is that why you hang out with me, as some kind of self-imposed penalty? Does it count as self-flagellation to have lunch with me?" House couldn't understand how he could feel so angry and still feel so worn out. This, he thought, is what they mean by soul sick.

Wilson shook him sharply, but House didn't even notice.

"Giving me a hand job would purge you for at least a week. Maybe longer." Wilson tightened his already bruising grip on House's arms and shook him again, harder.

"Why do you always do this? Can't you let me have one thing? Just one thing? I spend time with you because I like you, as hard to believe as that is. I bring you so much pain and hurt why can't you enjoy this? You get what you want and I get what I need."

"I appreciate your martyrdom, but I don't think it's enough to start a religion. Hey! Maybe you could be a saint. I've heard the papacy doesn't have a problem overlooking one man touching another man's penis." Wilson's mouth twisted. "Thanks for the offer of a handy shandy, but I'm going to pass on helping your canonization."

Wilson grabbed at the top of House's pants. His hands were much steadier this time. House swatted his hands away. He grabbed again. House felt like he was moving in slow motion. After swatting, batting, and slapping, Wilson pushed House hard against the wall. He knocked the wind out of him. In a quick, violent motion he had House's jeans undone.

"Please, House, don't make this harder than it already is." Wilson grabbed for House's wrist, but House lifted his arms out of his reach. That was what Wilson wanted and he took advantage of House's position. He latched on to the waistbands of House's jeans and boxers and yanked them down to his mid thigh while dropping to his knees. House fell back from the shock and unexpected pain and found himself trapped between the wall and Wilson. He panted breathlessly and wondered if this was how Wilson felt when he was about to have a panic attack. He wanted to go back to his previous disconnected, empty feeling. Wilson latched his fingers into House's hips.

"House might say no, but it looks like little Greg wants to join the congregation." House tried to think of a clever "traitorous flesh" cliché, but his mind went blank with the sensation of Wilson brushing his hair along his dick. It jumped to prove his point.

"I like it when women do that, too," Wilson said smugly. House looked down reluctantly. Seeing Wilson on his knees rubbing his head gently, too gently, against his cock encompassed all his dreams and nightmares. He closed his eyes tightly. He didn't want to see this. This wasn't happening. This was expensive bourbon and too many pills. Then he felt and heard Wilson laying tiny kisses along his length. He had to look. Wilson's dry, gentle, almost innocent kisses were bizarre on so many levels House couldn't help, but analyze his movements.

Wilson looked up and House saw the young man he'd met so many years before. The words came out before he could stop them.

"You're so beautiful." Wilson didn't acknowledge him. That was only fitting, House thought, since this is a chemically induced dream. Wilson barely stuck the tip of his tongue out and tentatively licked a line no more than an inch long. He looked up at House and smiled. House realized this wasn't a dream. If it was a dream Wilson would be deep throating him, not looking scared. Wilson stuck his tongue out more and took a wider lap. He experimented with different angles, but he didn't move far from the base where he started. House groaned in frustration.

"If you're going to do this then maybe you should move the process along." He knew it was a bad sign of his encroaching sobriety and his waning libido that he said a complete sentence with a clear voice. Wilson let go of House's hips and fell back on his heels.

"This isn't as easy as it looks. Well, _you_ know that. I know it's stupid, but I'm not sure what to do. It doesn't feel like I thought it would. Give me a chance and I'll get it right." House didn't mean to laugh, but Wilson sounded like he was trying to duplicate a magic trick or make it to the next level of a video game.

"It's ok, Wilson. I don't know why you started this in the first place." House started pushing himself away from the wall when Wilson responded by grabbing House's dick hard in an almost crushing grip. He fell back to his place against the wall.

"This is going to happen. We've already started. I need to finish this." Wilson sounded annoyed and frustrated, but determined. He loosened his grip a little and stroked House slowly. "What should I do? What did Trevor do that you liked? I can do whatever any other man can do for you." House moaned, but not from pleasure.

"Stop asking me about other men. And don't talk about Trevor. You don't know what you're talking about." House had enough of Wilson's jibes about his sexuality and his innuendos about Trevor. It mixed with his anger at Stacy for telling his secrets to anybody yet alone to Wilson. A voice in his head told him a lousy blow job was still better than no blow job and if Wilson wanted it then he could take it. "Do what you like women to do to you." Wilson looked away clearly embarrassed.

"I was going to, but," Wilson hesitated, "it's different. From down here it looks too big."

This, House thought, epitomized why he hated virgins.

"My ego isn't what you should be stroking." House felt Wilson grip tighten slightly. He reached down and placed his hand over Wilson's. He moved Wilson's hand up and down several times. It was easier than he thought to get back into a more receptive mood.

He pulled Wilson's hand off and gave himself a few hardening tugs. House was going to make this work if for no other reason than making Wilson regret getting what he asked for. He palmed the tip of his cock and lifted it exposing the underside. Wilson stared.

"Do I need to get out some instructional porn? Suck here," he indicated the flesh right above his scrotum. Wilson looked pleased to have House change his attitude. He bent his head and pressed his lips where House told him. After what felt like minutes, Wilson uncertainly parted his lips slightly and applied what House supposed counted as suction in the same way a burnt out match counted as a forest fire. Wilson going down on him? Hot. Wilson thinking this was a punishment? Hurtful, but doable. Wilson acting like it was disgusting, like he was disgusting? That was demeaning. House might have been shameless, but he did have his pride. He decided a pathetic blow job wasn't better than no blow job.

"Ok, well that was fun. Get out." House reached down to pull up his pants. Wilson put his arm between House's legs above his pants to keep him from getting very far. House's exasperation was evident.

"I'm sorry I'm not doing it right." Wilson appeared to be thinking. He seemed to come to a decision. He stood up and undid his khakis. House wondered absently if Wilson put soap on his zippers to make them unzip so quickly. It probably came in handy for quickies.

"I don't want to know why you're taking your pants off." House said it, but he didn't make any move to leave. He was curious to see what Wilson would do. And he never missed an opportunity to see Wilson, or to be honest anybody, naked.

Wilson pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid movement. House knew he must have practice that. He absent mindedly stroked himself. Maybe he'd been too dismissive of that hand job. Wilson kicked off his shoes and practically ripped off his pants. House tried to memorize every inch of flesh. No matter how enticing a naked Wilson was, he knew he had to put an end to this.

"Nice socks. I should buy some dress socks. Do those fall down? I hate it when they bunch up at the ankles." Wilson lifted each foot and took his socks off. He rolled them into a ball and threw it at House.

"Take them. Aren't you going to get undressed?" Wilson asked so matter-of-factly House had to smile. Had Wilson thought any of this out? House decided Wilson must have not planned beyond asking him to hit him. He probably thought House would jump at the chance exactly like he seemed to think House should jump at the chance of jumping him.

"Is there a reason why I should? What are you doing? If you want to watch tv nude that's ok with me. I think the Munsters are on in 5 minutes." Wilson pounced on him. He tore at House's t-shirt. House obstinately refused to raise his arms. Wilson was clearly getting frustrated.

"Why are you fighting me on this? I know you want it." Wilson ran his hands over House's chest behind the bunched up shirt. House couldn't remember when anything had felt that good. Too bad he wasn't a bigger bastard so he could take advantage of deranged Wilson.

"I'm tired. It's been a long day and you having a nervous breakdown wasn't on my to-do list. You're going to regret this when you start thinking clearly again." Wilson responded by grabbing House's dick and rubbing it against his own. House moaned more at the idea than the actual friction.

"You let me do my penance and then you can sleep. We need to finish this." There it was again, House thought. I'm a punishment and Wilson has OCD.

"I know you don't find me attractive, but you could at least stop making me sound like the living embodiment of an iron maiden. Just get dressed and get out." Wilson tightened his grip.

"You want me to tell you I want this, I want you? I'm here, naked, rubbing your cock. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you." Wilson let go of House and returned to caressing his chest. He leaned in and kissed House's neck. He gently kissed his way up to House's cheek. He leaned back to look into House's eyes.

Wilson closed his eyes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. House thought it wasn't a kiss of passion or lust or even need. It was a benediction. House decided if Wilson wanted to start a religion he might as well be the first convert.

He lifted his arms up and Wilson's face lit up like he'd got a bike for Christmas or more aptly a Lego Castle for Hanukah. He didn't waste anytime pulling House's shirt off. Wilson kissed him again only this time it was passionate, lusty, and needy. He dropped to his knees intent on finishing pulling off House's jeans enthusiastically. In his rush Wilson jostled House's right leg and House winced in pain. Wilson pulled on the pant leg and the force made House place his weight on his right leg. He screamed silently.

"Oh god, House! I'm so sorry!" Wilson jumped up. "Are you ok?" When House didn't answer, but kept his eyes firmly shut, Wilson cradled his face in his hands. He delicately kissed House's quivering lips. House was only peripherally aware of it. After a minute of deep breathing, House opened his eyes. He wasn't so sure Wilson had done that accidentally.

"I need to lie down," House said. He looked down at his denim bonds. Wilson finished removing House's jeans, this time more carefully. He helped House to his bedroom. House flopped onto the bed.

"Are you ok," Wilson asked softly. House almost didn't hear him.

"I'm fine. I went from tired to wiped out." House closed his eyes again. He hoped when he opened them Wilson would be gone or at least dressed. He felt the bed rock as a weight suspiciously the same as Wilson climbed in next to him. His suspicion was confirmed with Wilson's hand floating across his stomach. It didn't only feel good, but it tickled. He couldn't let Wilson find out he was ticklish. He put his hand over Wilson's stilling it.

"Do you want me to try the oral thing again?" House chuckled shaking his head.

"No, I want you to go home. The sooner you leave the sooner we can start pretending this never happened." Wilson licked one of House's nipples. House moaned. He didn't want to, but his body had been on autopilot all evening so there wasn't much point in trying to stop it now. Wilson alternated flicking his tongue against the nipple and sucking it.

"That doesn't feel like you want me to go." House didn't like the almost sing song quality to Wilson's voice. The idea he was being played loomed large.

"I don't know what else to tell you to get through to you." House felt Wilson's tongue behind his ear. He groaned. He reached to push Wilson away.

"Don't make me beg," Wilson whispered. He licked the shell of House's ear. "Unless that's what you want me to do."

House turned on his side and looked at Wilson. For the first time House could see a trace of lust on Wilson's face. House slowly ran a hand up and down Wilson's arm. Wilson caressed House's hip. A sexually charged Wilson, House learned, was not a timid creature as he abandoned House's hip for his cock. Wilson stroked him in a much more self assured way than he had touched him before. House felt himself getting hard again. It wouldn't be an easy erection, but if Wilson kept stroking him like that at that speed with that pressure House was pretty sure Wilson could get him off. He rocked into Wilson's fist.

"That's it, House. It feels good doesn't it?" House grunted an affirmative. "I want to get you hard."

"This will be a very disappointed hand job if you stop at getting me stiff." Wilson kissed House's mouth. House would never tell Wilson, but he loved kissing. He kissed back enthusiastically.

I'm kissing Wilson, House thought. It was fairly obvious, but he had a hard time accepting it. In this moment, when only moments matter, I'm kissing Wilson.

"This is just the foreplay." Wilson merged their lips together again. A hungry and demanding tongue painted House's teeth. House slid his hand down to stroke Wilson. He was harder than House had expected. House matched the rhythm Wilson was using. It felt so good. If he could just get Wilson to add a little twist…

"What are you doing," Wilson yelled jumping off the bed. "I didn't say you can touch me."

"You're naked lying on my bed!" House gave himself a point for an excellent argument.

"I'm naked because I thought it would turn you on not so you could molest me." If House wasn't so mad he would find Wilson naked, his arms akimbo, with a big, stiff dick looking indignant, cute.

"This emotional and sexual roller coaster isn't my kind of ride. Get out of my carnival." House scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up faster than a non-angry House would have attempted. He grabbed Wilson's wrist and twisted it around behind his back. Wilson yelled. House twisted Wilson's arm a little more as he leveraged his weight on Wilson. He tried to push Wilson forward, but Wilson was planted firmly to the floor. House could feel Wilson's pulse racing. "I'll seriously hurt you if you don't get out now."

Wilson reached his free hand back and wildly searched for House. House laughed mirthlessly at what he thought was Wilson's pathetic attempt at escape. At least he laughed until Wilson's hand finally came in contact with his cock. After a few blind slaps made more difficult from House arching away, Wilson found his goal and wrapped his fingers around him as best he could at that angle. He rubbed House's dick. House tried to pull away more without letting go of Wilson, but it only increased the sensation.

"That's it, House. Show me what you want." House barely heard him over the noise in his head. House grabbed Wilson's rubbing hand with his free hand. He was fairly sure Wilson could have gotten his twisted arm free while his attention was split. Instead he leaned into House. House twisted the other arm behind Wilson's back.

"Oh God! Yes, House, yes!" House didn't think that sounded right at all. Wilson bent his knees, bouncing slowly up and down causing his arms to pull more on each downward bend. House thought he might have lost control of the situation. Again. Wilson jutted his butt back against House. He wriggled wantonly. Wilson made a guttural groan House couldn't mistake.

"Does that hurt," he asked. Wilson panted some kind of affirmative. House let go of his hands and pushed Wilson forward. "Fuck you," House yelled. Wilson wasn't as unbalanced as House had hoped. He caught himself on the bed.

"Oh yeah, House, fuck me," Wilson purred in the way House always imagined he'd sound in a moment of ecstasy. It incensed House no end.

"Is that why you wanted me to hurt you? To get you off?" Every cell in House's body vibrated with anger and arousal. "I'm going to teach you a lesson about pain. What do you think it's going to feel like with my dick up your ass?" House expected Wilson to look shocked or scared. Maybe he would jump up and run for his clothes. Always surprising him, Wilson smiled insanely. He did jump up, but only to bend himself over the bed.

House was at a loss for a moment, but then he thought about teaching that lesson, about how Wilson wanted to use him. He moved in closer to Wilson. He lightly scratched his fingernails down Wilson's lower back slowly increasing the pressure. He did it again with his left hand. Wilson moaned. House slapped Wilson's right buttock hard. Wilson jerked upwards then dropped his torso back onto the bed. He stretched his arms out as far as he could.

House catalogued the reaction and limped towards the nightstand. Wilson turned his head to the side to watch him. He wasn't sure how far this would go, but meticulous, immaculate Wilson would stop it once he realized the logistics. The messy details would snap him back to reality.

House opened an Altoid's tin he kept extra Vicodin in and popped one. He thought better as he put it back and took a second one. He took a condom out of the drawer and tossed in on the bed in front of Wilson. Wilson looked delighted. _Delighted_. House added that reaction to the growing list. Whatever this had started out to be, it had become a lusty game. House loved games almost as much as puzzles. He wanted to win.

He picked up a tube of hand lotion. He turned to face Wilson and held up the tube. Wilson's expression didn't change. House made a show of picking up his reading glasses. He turned the tube over in his hands as if he were reading the label of a can of ravioli. He tossed the tube back in the drawer.

"Petroleum based. That kinda negates the point of the condom." Wilson was barely containing his glee. House pulled out a bottle of aloe vera gel. He waved it at Wilson. "Water based, a little sticky though. You're lucky," House said turning the bottle over in his hands exaggeratedly reading the label. "I thought this was the one with added menthol for sun burn. Of course, the burning would keep you from feeling anything else." He tossed the bottle next to the condom. He slowly took his glasses off.

Wilson's expression only changed enough for him to drag his teeth over his lower lip. He rotated his pelvis against the bed. House knew he was moments from humping the comforter. House chastised himself for finding that amazingly hot. No matter when Wilson called it off, House was sure he'd be jerking off to that image for the rest of his life.

"Come on, House," Wilson said in the tone House was more accustomed to followed by a purred, seductive "please." House smirked smugly. He was so going to make Wilson regret starting this. He didn't move any closer to Wilson. He stroked his cock slowly. House hadn't felt this hard since he did that line of coke with some nameless pro in Atlantic City.

"Is this what you want?" Wilson gave an affirmative whimper. "Are you sure you can take it? If you thought it was too big to suck don't you think it's too big to fuck?" House wished he was as steady as his voice belied. Wilson answered by moving his hands to spread his cheeks apart. He rocked against the bed.

Oh god! He is humping the comforter! House used every ounce of self control he didn't normally possess to stop stroking himself. The functioning part of his brain still believed Wilson would call time out any moment. It was a bold move, but House thought a quick lick of Wilson asshole would bring that moment to fruition. He'd win this game. He moved behind Wilson. He dragged his finger tips roughly along Wilson's shoulder blades.

"Let's see how ready you really are." He placed his hands on top of Wilson's and pushed him forward and up giving him more access. House bent down, tongue involuntarily pocking out in anticipation. He stopped cold. This was not happening. He looked at Wilson's glistening opening with his analytic eye. He swiped a finger across it making Wilson twitch. He rubbed the substance between his thumb and forefinger. Slick, light, oddly wet without being wet…

"Astroglide?" House took several steps back. Wilson turned on his side and looked back at House's confused expression.

"Yes…" When House only gave him an accusatory look Wilson continued. "I wanted to be prepared. I want you to hurt me, not tear me apart." House covered his face with his hand until he felt the lubricated finger. Pulling his hand away in horror, House grew more annoyed.

"So you came here with the plan of having sex with me? You have been playing me this entire time?"

"Does it matter, House? You're hard. I'm willing. I tell you what. Next time I'll give you a real blow job." House shook his head.

"You were pretending to be clueless? I can't believe you. Did you wake up this morning and think 'hmmm, House would be an easy mark'?" Wilson sat up and held out his hands in the universal body language of "I don't want to argue, but I'm going to be condescending about it".

"Believe me, nothing about this was easy. Do you have any idea how hard it was to touch you, taste you, and having to restrain myself? And I woke up this morning thinking that tonight would finally be the night. After years, I'd finally get to be with you. All week I've been planning how I could make this work."

"It didn't occur to come in and say something like 'Hey House, instead of watching television why don't we have sex?'"

"Yeah and I've almost done that a thousand times." Wilson crawled off the bed. House eyed him warily. "If I'd come here tonight and said 'Hey House, why don't you slap me around, take me hard, and fuck me into your mattress?' would you have done any of that? Christ! I thought I'd never get you mad!"

"And you thought I wouldn't figure out you were messing with me?"

"I knew you'd know! I thought you had it figured out when you called me on not being drunk. I thought when you realized it you'd play along so you could have sex with me with plausible deniability of emotional attachment. I was drunk; you were angry. I imagined that some day you'd be used to the idea enough that I could come here and tell you I want you without any pretense." Wilson took a dangerous step towards House.

"You get turned on by confrontation. Sometimes I get turned on by watching you confront. My fantasy was to have our first time be confrontational, passionate, out of control!" House cocked his head and stared at Wilson.

"So you thought this would happen again? I'd think you were so good I'd overlook you manipulating me?" Wilson looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. House narrowed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose. He took a step forward and Wilson moved several back. "You think you can do whatever you want and I'll just let it go?" House bared his teeth. "You think you can fuck with me playing your goddamn mind games and I won't mind?" He shoved Wilson so hard he almost toppled over onto the bed. Wilson held his hands up palms out again.

"House, I'm sorry. I should have known I'd screw this up. I thought we'd have fun. I didn't mean to upset you or hurt you…" House cut him off.

"Really? Bringing up my past failures at relationships? No, why would that be hurtful?" He grabbed Wilson's hands. "You know what really hurts?" He pushed Wilson down hard enough he bounced when he hit the bed. Wilson sat up on his elbows, eyes wide with fear. House pulled his hand back and slapped Wilson's face hard enough that his hand stung as much as Wilson's cheek. "That's what hurts."

Wilson looked truly scared for the first time all evening.

"Isn't that what you wanted – to be slapped around?" Wilson's lips trembled, but he didn't speak. House slapped the other side of Wilson's face and took his momentary shock to shove and manhandle Wilson into a similar position to how Wilson had placed himself before.

"What else did you say you wanted?" House pulled Wilson's hair and forced his head to the side. "Oh that's right! You wanted me to take you roughly and fuck you into the mattress. What kind of selfish jerk would I be not to give my bestest friend what he wants." House kept a firm grip on Wilson's hair and wriggled his other hand between Wilson's cheeks.

He let go of Wilson's hair. Wilson rubbed at his scalp. House thought Wilson was near tears. He smiled as he shoved two fingers into Wilson's ass. In spite of how easily they slid in, Wilson bucked up and let go of his head to grip the comforter.

"Is that considered taking you roughly?" He twisted then scissored his fingers when he didn't get enough of a reaction. Wilson cried out. That was what House was looking for. He pulled his fingers out. He almost laughed at the amount of lubricant on his fingers. Waste not, want not, House thought rubbing the lubricant on his dick.

"You really did a lot of prep, didn't you? Do you buy it in bulk? And you're so loose and stretched. Did you do that with your fingers or did you use something else?" When Wilson didn't answer House pinched the skin in the crease between Wilson's buttock and his leg. Wilson cried out again. "When somebody asks you a question you should answer it. Tell me what you did to yourself." Wilson gasped for breath and stammered almost soundlessly. House pinched him on the other side.

"I put the stuff on my fingers." House massaged Wilson's back alternating between what he considered relaxing and deep tissue. I put my index finger in and it wasn't much so I added my middle finger." House reached his hand between Wilson's cheeks again.

"So you started with one," House's voice low and seductive. House shoved a finger in and out almost gently. "Then you added a second finger." He added a second. Then what did you do?"

"I needed more so I poured more of that stuff on this thing…" Wilson moaned.

"That's pretty vague. Was 'that stuff' put on a sex toy 'thing'?" Wilson closed his eyes tighter and nodded. "Was it a vibrator or a butt plug or maybe just some anal beads…" He trailed off pleased at how the color of red Wilson's face turned contrasted with the red from being slapped.

"A plug. It's purple." House had to suck and bite on his upper lip to keep from laughing. Of all the details to voluntarily offer only Wilson would think the color was important. House added a third finger.

"Is it a purple butt plug or a purple, vibrating butt plug?" House tried to keep any affection out of his voice. Wilson mumbled something into the mattress that House took as 'vibrating'.

"That's pretty hot. You home alone, getting yourself ready. Did you make yourself come?" Wilson nodded. "Did you call my name?" Wilson nodded and buried his forehead into the comforter. It sounded to House like he was sobbing. "Did you think about how you were going to humiliate me?" House slammed his fingers in the slowly pulled them out taking an extra moment to delicately swab his fingers along the prostate. "Hurt me?" He shoved in again making sure he hit Wilson's prostate hard. House was smugly pleased at Wilson's reaction. The man was falling apart. House repeated his soft/hard technique trying to perfect the move.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Wilson huffed. "Uuuaaawww! I got carried awaaaayy, oh god!" House decided he had perfected it. Wilson started babbling. House only made out a few words. "Won't…need…god…House (which House thought might have been "how" followed by a slur)…fuck…love…please…" House decided that translated to "I'm ready to move on to the next phase." He pulled his fingers out with a final come hither tease. He counted to five for Wilson to catch his breath. He slapped the side of Wilson's right thigh.

"Roll over," he barked. Wilson was slow to obey. House backhanded the same spot on Wilson's thigh. Wilson rolled onto his back. House smiled predatorily. He'd been told by more than one person it was a sexy, but dangerous look. Wilson was shivering so House decided he still had it. House stroked his own cock covering it in the lube he'd transferred from Wilson's ass. Wilson reached to touch himself and House rapped his knuckles.

"Do you think this is about you getting off? Oh no, Wilson. This is me taking what I want. You might have been lying about wanting to make amends, but that's what you'll be doing. You're going to make up for lying to me."

"Ok," Wilson rasped. He swallowed and licked his lips. If House hadn't already been desperately hard that would have gotten him there.

"Open that condom," House said nodding his head to where it laid above Wilson's head. Wilson turned and grabbed it too eagerly for House's taste. He pinched one of Wilson's nipples. Wilson collapsed onto his back again. House let go. Wilson tried to open the condom wrapper. House noticed Wilson's hands were shaking. House showed his approval by bending done and nipping at the skin around Wilson's waist. He sat up and massaged the wound.

"Did you like that? Maybe that's why they're called love handles." Wilson concentrated on the condom wrapper. He was taking heaving breaths. Under different circumstances House would get him a nasal cannula and dial up some hi-test O2.

"It's open." In those few words Wilson had managed to sound concerned, needy, and proud. House wasn't sure either of them could take this much longer. He awkwardly moved around on the bed to get his cock within easy reach.

"Put it on me." Wilson's hands were still shaking so House helped guide him. The condom glided on smoothly and House held back from making an ASStroglide joke. This wasn't the time to joke. Wilson lifted his legs and bent them towards his chest. House slapped at them. "Do you think I'm going to look at you while I violate you? Get up!" Wilson did as he was told. "Put your hands on the dresser and bend over. Spread your legs apart more." Wilson obeyed. He looked back at House. "Don't look at me! Look at the floor." Wilson looked down, but turned his head again to see if House approved. He didn't.

House stood up and limped heavily to Wilson. He exaggerated his movement making the sound of his steps loud and uneven.

"I'm going to hurt so bad tomorrow. I suppose you didn't think about my comfort, did you?" Wilson looked down at the floor. House reached his hand around grabbing Wilson's face, forcing his mouth into a pained pout. "I guess your plan for evening things out means I'm gonna hafta make sure you hurt tomorrow, too." Wilson squirmed, but didn't try to move away from the dresser.

"When you were fucking Stacy on my furniture did you try this dresser? It's at the perfect height. It's almost like it was designed to brace someone while they are being pounded into." Wilson groaned. "Is that a yes? House dropped Wilson's face. House kneaded Wilson's ass. "I'm still waiting."

"Yes," Wilson whispered.

"Was that yes," House asked punctuating his question with a slap at the bottom of Wilson's bottom.

"Yes," Wilson cried. House snorted. He gave him another swat.

"I know why you two really betrayed me." He bent down to Wilson's ear. He nuzzled his ear then licked at his ear lobe. House sucked his earlobe into his mouth and grabbed his dick at the same time. Wilson gasped. "You're both sluts," House whispered in Wilson's ear with as much venom as he could.

Wilson sobbed and tried to catch his breath. House didn't give him much of an opportunity. He moved behind Wilson and rubbed his cock along Wilson's crack. He manhandled Wilson to get him precisely where he wanted him. Satisfied, House unceremoniously stabbed his penis into Wilson balls deep. He enjoyed the feeling for a long moment. Once Wilson began to squirm again, House pulled out. He immediately pushed in deeply. Wilson's knuckles were white from gripping the dresser.

"You like that? I can tell you do." House speeded up his thrusts. "Do all tramps like to be bent over and fucked?" House slammed in harder. Wilson's arms buckled, but he regained his purchase quickly. House bent down and kissed Wilson back. He used Wilson to hold him up with one hand and snaked the other to Wilson's leaking cock. House sped back up making shorter thrusts in time with stroking Wilson's shaft.

"Hoooouse!" Wilson cried out a stream of expletives and animalistic sounds.

"You know…ahhhhh…why…fuck!...why you sluts like it like this?" House worked at getting his breathing under control. "Because it's like you - fast and shallow." House worked the head of Wilson's dick in a hard twisting motion. If House could see Wilson's face, he would have seen his eyes roll up into his head.

Wilson screamed what House decided was his name (although it sounded more like "howzzzzzz"). He sounded like he was choking. House gave him three more deep slams and Wilson came in House's hand. Wilson shook as his bones turned to gelatin.

"Don't…move…" House grabbed Wilson's hips. He pounded into him at a punishing pace. Wilson's choking turned into a hiccupping sound. He was struggling to keep a hold on the dresser. House closed his eyes and reveled in the beautiful blankness of his mind. He counted out five final deep thrusts and came hard inside Wilson.

House was dizzy and saw stars. He pulled out of Wilson and dropped to the floor to keep from passing out and falling to the floor. Wilson followed his lead. He leaned back against the dresser letting his head fall against it.

After what felt like an eternity to House, he opened his eyes. Wilson's eyes moved, but he didn't open them. House crawled over to him.

"You were right. That wasn't bad." House wrapped an arm weakly around his neck and kissed his shoulder. "I was tired, but now I'm spent." Wilson opened his eyes. "Next time let's not do all the set up and foreplay. I was so hard I bet I have stretch marks." House smiled in the way he only could when he was able to stop thinking.

"Next time?" Wilson sounded confused. That confused House.

"Were you playing me when you admitted to playing me and promised me a blow job next time?" House remembered the phrase soul sick as that feeling from earlier began to bubble to the surface or, more accurately, seep into his pores and pool inside his body.

"Uh…no, I was serious, but aren't you mad at me?" House closed his eyes and silently cursed both of them. It never ceased to amaze him how they could know each other so well for so long and still have no idea how to communicate or understand.

"Of course I'm not mad at you! I thought you wanted your 'fantasy'. I thought you understood that from the moment I slapped you."

Wilson looked like he didn't understand. Wilson stood up gracelessly.

"Now you decide to leave? God! Are you an idiot? Do you really think I'd give you a hickey on your side, spank your bottom, and call you a slut if I didn't think that's what you wanted?" Wilson quickly headed off what sounded like the beginning of yet another misunderstanding.

"No! No, I know you wouldn't do that!" Wilson reached down for House's hand. He hesitantly took it and let Wilson help him painfully to his feet.

"Damn right! You're definitely more of a whore than a slut." He hoped Wilson knew he was joking. Mostly.


	2. There's Always A Next Time

A/N: This is a continuation of Retribution (for lack of a better title), but can be read separately. If you read it on its own you just need to know Wilson tried to manipulate House into having sex, House tried to teach Wilson to beware of getting what you wish, and they still manage to have mutually enjoyable sex.

House didn't have a lot of happy memories. And the ones he did have were tainted by one thing or another. Until last night his happiest had been, as sad as it sounded, that time he hit the trifecta at Monmouth. Now the happiest moment of his life was sitting on a cold, hard floor covered in sweat, his leg screaming, his mind a blank, next to Wilson, his thoroughly fucked Wilson, neither of them talking or trying to strategize their next move or wondering about the other's motivation. It was perfect.

And then it wasn't.

Wilson had helped him up from the floor and onto the bed. House was looking forward to curling up next to him and falling asleep. Of course, he couldn't tell Wilson that. Wilson would think he meant "cuddling" and he'd never believe that.

That had been fine.

House, drowsy and sated, stretched out and waited for Wilson to climb in next to him. Wilson asked him if he was comfy. He didn't remember saying anything. He must have looked comfy because Wilson said good and told him he'd be back.

That was less fine.

Back? Where on Earth could he go that would be better than right here, right now? The answer for Wilson was the shower. Apparently, Wilson couldn't wait to wash House off him.

Moment officially over.

House was not going to let this upset him. He didn't let it upset him for 15 minutes. He certainly didn't spend 15 minutes slipping from angry at Wilson to disappointment to disgust at himself. It was his own fault for letting sentiment control him. He had let himself believe Wilson had some affection for him. As if anybody could! He didn't have any right to be "happy" let alone "loved".

At the 16th minute, not that he was clocking it, House heard the bath tub faucet running. Did Wilson need a shower AND a bath to scrub clean? He heard the bathroom door open. House didn't want to see Wilson right then. He rolled onto his side with his back to the door. He'd pretend he was asleep and maybe they could postpone another argument.

"House," Wilson whispered. He crawled across the bed. "House? Don't you want to get up?" Wilson ran a hand along House's side. "I ran a bath for you." He kissed the back of his neck. "Your leg has to be hurting."

House smiled. He shouldn't have doubted Wilson. He ran them a bath and they could do that thing that might look like cuddling, but wasn't, in a nice tub of warm water.

"That sounds like a great idea." House turned and they kissed all too briefly. Wilson bounced off the bed. He helped House up and House leaned heavier than was necessary against him. A few hours ago he would have shrugged Wilson off and glared at him for the assistance. Now everything had changed. He couldn't keep from smiling. All the years he wanted to be with Wilson and now, _now_ they were together. They were a couple. House hadn't felt that way since he met Stacy. He'd regretted letting her in so far so quickly, but this was different. This was Wilson.

"You'd better get in while it's warm." House let Wilson help him get in the tub. This was going to be good, House thought. He'd get in then Wilson would. He'd wrap his legs around Wilson and hold him close.

This wasn't going to be good. It was going to be great!

"Okay, well, I'm going to get going."

It was going to suck.

"What do you mean?" House must have heard Wilson wrong.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? I'm going to find my clothes, God knows what they must look like, and go home. I'll see you later." Wilson closed the bathroom door.

House might have topped, but Wilson was the one doing the mind fucking.

House wasn't going to chase after him. That was probably what Wilson wanted and he had more pride than that. He wasn't sure what he would say when Wilson got back, but he was secretly hoping he wouldn't have to wait long to think about it. After draining and refilling the tub with warm water twice House decided he'd be better off waiting on dry land with some dry gin and dry swallowing. He'd knock himself out like he originally planned to this evening and Wilson would have to try to wake him up when he deigned to return.

Around 11 am House woke up on the Marquis de Sade of couches. Alone. It only took a moment for him to remember why he was there and what had happened the night before. He got up to inspect the door. He had put tape from where he had it taped to the door knob to the door frame. It was a trick he'd learned from his dad. At least he taught him something useful. The tape hadn't moved so no early morning visit from Wilson. He wasn't really surprised. He didn't expect it, but he had hoped.

"I am so pathetic," House said dropping his head against the door. He'd let Wilson play him and then let him open that little window of hope that maybe, _maybe_, things were going to be better. Now he felt used. He was so tired of feeling like that, feeling anything really. "He'd better not come back," House said to no one while he wished Wilson was there.

Around 3 pm House was thinking about taking another Vicodin. He'd spent hours thinking about what he wanted to say to Wilson and what he would really say. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He rattled the pill bottle. Seven, he guessed. He poured them into his hand to count. Yep. Seven. He was good. He froze when he heard the front door opening.

"Hey, House," Wilson said casually. "There's tape on your door. What's that about?" He pointed to the pills in House's hand. "You weren't going to take all those?" It came out more like a command than a question. That was not the tone to take with House. He took one and poured the rest of the pills back into the bottle. House didn't take his eyes off Wilson.

"I don't see how my door or pills are any of your concern," House said in a quiet, neutral tone. Wilson seemed to size House up before responding.

"No, you're right. If you want to tape your door it's your right to be eccentric." He started to walk towards House.

"What are you doing here," House asked. He hadn't meant to sound angry, but Wilson always put a magnifying glass to his emotions.

"I thought I'd make us a late lunch/early dinner." Wilson held up the shopping bag. When House didn't respond, Wilson walked towards the kitchen. "I printed out the recipe for that Gordon Ramsey chicken stroganoff you said looked good. I don't think it's going to be too hard." House grabbed Wilson's arm.

"Put the bag down." Wilson tried to shake House's grip, but he held tight. He gently pointed Wilson towards the couch. Wilson huffed his annoyance, but put the bag down and sat down.

"There's chicken in that bag. I should at least put it in the fridge." House sat down on the other end of the couch and glared at him.

"And what exactly makes you think you or your chicken is welcome here?" House could tell Wilson was unnerved by his barely contained voice. Good.

"Well, I thought after last night, I and my chicken were more than welcome." Wilson's attempt at a glare was nothing more than an attempt. He didn't come close to the way House's eyes flashed.

"So you think you can just breeze in and out as you please?"

"What's going on, House? We had a good time last night. I was hoping we could keep on having good times. You're acting like you're mad at me. Is this about what I said? I was just trying to get a reaction." House didn't say anything. "Is it about Stacy? I thought you were okay about that. You were the one I always wanted." Wilson moved in to cup House's cheek. He batted his hand away.

"Really? You wanted me. Is that why you couldn't wait to wash me off your skin? Is that why you left? You had to go home and scour away the dirt?" Wilson looked horrified.

"What? No! How do you get these ideas in that twisted brain of yours? I was covered in sweat and semen and goo so I took a shower. God! I even drew you a bath before I left!" Wilson stood up. He paced around the room. He moved his hands from his hair, to his neck, to his hips and back like he had no idea where to put them. "I left because I thought you would like some space." Wilson laughed while it was clear he didn't find this amusing. "I try to respect your intimacy issues and this is what I get. You are such an ass."

"Do you want to stand by that story? Everything you do is for my own good." Wilson didn't say anything. "All these years and you still surprise me. Sex with men, rough sex – when did that start?" House stroked his cane seemingly absent mindedly, but it was intentionally suggestive.

"I knew you'd ask that."

"Then why did I have to ask? Does it have something to do with Amber? Women remind you of her. Your guilt complex keeps you from getting it up from vanilla sex?"

"It has nothing to do with Amber and I can 'get it up just fine'. Does any of that matter? I've never done anything like last night. I told you. That was my fantasy. I thought tonight we might try something a little more 'vanilla'." House stopped playing with his cane.

"So you assumed you could come back here and I'd let you have sex with me? And people think my ego is out of control. You're the whore, not me."

"Last night was…" Wilson seemed to be looking for the right word. "…amazing. It was better than any of my fantasies. I was hoping it was amazing for you, too. I was hoping you could tell me your fantasy and I could do that for you."

"Then you won't mind doing something for me." Wilson moved quickly to House and dropped to one knee.

"House, I will do anything you want just don't throw me out." Wilson sounded desperate. House smiled unpleasantly.

"Stand over there," House said indicating the middle of the room. Wilson did. "Take your clothes off."

"Take my clothes off?" When Wilson didn't get a response he removed his sweat shirt. "Is this part of your fantasy?"

"Why would I tell you my fantasies?" House leaned back. Anyone seeing him would think he was bored.

"So I can make them come true," Wilson said with a questioning inflection.

"Do you really think you can do that? Don't answer that. I already know the answer. Hurry up with those clothes." Wilson kicked his shoes off and started undoing his jeans.

"If this isn't part of your fantasy why am I taking my clothes off?"

"You aren't worthy of hearing my fantasies and clothes are for people. You aren't a 'people'." House enjoyed the confusion on Wilson's face. "Clothes off now." Wilson quickly complied. He tried to cover himself, but under House's appraising eye his attempt at modesty was pointless.

"Now what?" House twitched his lips back and forth in contemplation.

"Come here." Wilson smiled. House noted it and Wilson's anticipation. "Don't get too excited. You don't know what I'm going to do." Wilson hesitated before moving closer. House dragged his nails down the front of Wilson's thighs. "I guess you were right about not having any problems getting it up." The fact that Wilson was getting a sexual thrill out of this annoyed House. The man could get aroused by an electric fan.

"I'm glad you like it," Wilson chuckled. House dug his nails in painfully.

"You assume, or should I say presume, too much. I'm only wasting my time on you because I've caught up on all the shows on my DVR." Wilson's eyebrows knitted together. House leaned back again.

"Now lay down," House patted his left knee.

"Lay down," Wilson asked confused. House pinched the bridge of his nose.

"If you are going to question every little think and parrot it back at me you might as well leave because I'm not going to the effort to repeat myself."

"Sorry, but I don't understand what you want me to do." House turned Wilson sideways.

"Put your arms here," House explained slowly, patting the cushion next to him. "Try to stay off the leg."

"So you're bending me…"

"I'm putting you over my knee." House sounded like this was the most normal thing in the world. Wilson eyed the situation, but didn't move. "I'm done arguing with you. You said you'd do anything. It's not like I asked you to rob a bank. If it's too much to ask for you to shut up and do as you are told…" Wilson waved his hands.

"Give me a second to figure this out. Not all of us needed corporeal punishment as a kid." As soon as he finished saying it Wilson grimaced.

"That wasn't a very wise thing to say considering the position you're going to be in soon. Now shut up and do it." Wilson took a few hesitant tries before finally getting in a good starting position. House had to work hard not to laugh. Getting Wilson down the last few inches was the hard part.

"I'm not dragging my feet. I'm not sure where to …" Wilson trailed off. House did laugh.

"Your junk? We'll try it down and outside and see how that goes." House grabbed Wilson's 'junk' unsympathetically and led him down onto his knee. "How does that feel?" House sounded more analytic than aroused.

"It's not very comfortable." Well duh, House thought.

"Don't use your balls as a fulcrum point. Distribute your weight on your elbows and knees. Shift your pelvis up, but not too far. Now all of you down. Be glad you lost that semi. Shoving your stiffy into the sofa wouldn't make this easier."

House put his right arm on Wilson's back, prepared to hold him down if necessary. He placed his left hand on Wilson's ass. He squeezed each cheek lightly followed by a slow, light caress. Wilson twitched.

"Do you like that?"

"Mm-hmm. This isn't bad at all. Your jeans are a little scratchy. Maybe we should take them off." House gave Wilson's right cheek a buzz zap. Wilson yipped. House held him down with his right arm.

"Don't make suggestions. You're lucky I'm doing this at all." He returned to his light caresses. "You have an aesthetically pleasing ass." Wilson laughed. House pulled his hand back at the wrist and slapped him. Wilson stopped laughing. "Do you think this is a joke?" He slapped again. "I don't think you'll be laughing for long."

House swatted across Wilson's crack harder. The force was worse than the sting and it pushed Wilson forward. He rubbed his hand across Wilson's buttocks before returning to the caresses. His right hand reached over to Wilson's nape. He mirrored his light caresses there.

"So you've started experimenting with new things. How's that working out for you?" House was speaking so soft and low he was about to put himself to sleep.

"Good. It turns out I like trying different things, learning new stuff." Wilson purred. House thought he sounded relaxed enough. He moved his left leg and lifted Wilson a few inches. He gave him a series of swats alternating between cheeks and steadily increasing the force. House returned to caressing.

"I've got something new you might like to learn. Do you feel this? Is that good?" House brushed his fingertips along the creases between Wilson's buttocks and legs.

"'s good," Wilson slurred into the cushion.

"I bet you never knew the flesh here was so sensitive."

"Not before last night," Wilson said trying to lift his head. House pushed his head down.

"Trust me. You don't want to move right now. And don't tense up. Stay as relaxed as you can. If you relax," he said in a lullaby voice, "and let your body move naturally, it won't be so bad.

"Besides being sensitive, if you get a smack in just the right place with just the right amount of force you'll feel it all the way up your spine." House ran his right hand up and down Wilson's spine. Wilson shivered. House steadied his hand on Wilson's back. He pulled his other hand back and hit the delicate skin. Wilson's jumped. "That's not quite it." He hit again, harder. Wilson jumped again. "Closer. This is easier with a paddle, but I prefer the flesh-on-flesh feel." House grabbed Wilson's left butt cheek hard and shook it. "Third times the charm." House smacked Wilson as hard as the angle would allow. Wilson cried out and arched his back. House pushed him back down. "That's the sweet spot." House returned to gently stroking the reddening flesh.

"House," Wilson panted.

"Hmmm?"

"I need to get up."

"No you don't. You want to get up." House smacked his ass hard.

"Nooo," Wilson gasped. "Need to." He wriggled as much as House would allow him trying to reposition himself. House felt something hard and fleshy poke his thigh. House held his arms up.

"Get up. And I mean the parts of you that aren't already up."

Wilson moved slowly. He reached back and rubbed his ass.

"It feels good to stand, doesn't it? Feel how hot it is." Wilson threw his head back and breathed as if he'd been drowning. He reached for his cock and stroked it slowly.

"Stop it." Wilson looked at House, but kept stroking. "I said stop touching yourself. I'm not done." Wilson stopped.

"That wasn't so bad. What now," Wilson asked readily. House smiled at him. "Why does that smile scare me?"

"Because you're not an idiot." House stood up and looked around sizing up his options. "Go to that corner. Move." Wilson quirked an eyebrow, but moved. He started to turn back to look at House. "No, face the wall." House pointed him to the corner and prodded him to move closer into the corner. He grabbed Wilson's wrists and lifted his hands to chest level. He put his hands over Wilson's and plastered each to a wall. "Don't move. Stay here and get yourself under control."

"House…" House put his hands firmly on Wilson's shoulders.

"That means no talking. If you move again you'll have to write out 'I'll consider House's feelings before making decisions.' 100 times." Wilson laughed. "I'll give you that one, but one more and it's 150 times." House patted his shoulders and turned to leave.

"Wait! House, what are you going to do?" House turned back.

"I'll give you that one, too. I'm going to sit down and see if there's anything on worth watching. Then I'll see if there's anything worth half watching. I'll be able to see you from the couch and, believe me, you are worth watching. You will stand there, not move, and think about something other than your dick. Maybe you should try thinking about what goes through my 'twisted brain' when you say things like 'twisted brain'. Now not another word."

House went to the couch, sat down, and picked up the remote. He pretended to watch something with a giant python found in Florida, but he was really watching Wilson. House was ridiculously happy to see Wilson only move to redistribute the weight on his feet. He checked on him a few times and was glad to see, finally!, Wilson's overactive libido was in check.

"Okay, you can come over here." Wilson looked over his shoulder and saw House patting the cushion next to him. Wilson moved comically fast to the couch.

"House, I am so sorry I hurt your feelings. I really didn't mean to." Wilson leaned over and kissed House's cheek. "I promise I'll do better." House looked at him doubtfully.

"If I had a square foot of wallpaper for every time you sincerely apologized to somebody and promised to do better I'd put Sherwin Williams out of business." Wilson looked crestfallen. House put a pillow on his left leg. "This is going to be a little more difficult. Lie down this way and be careful of my leg. I'm going to trap your knees under it," House said conversationally. Wilson was, once again, confused. "Trust me – under this leg, over this leg on the pillow. It's the best way to take it easy on my leg and besides, my left hand is tired." Wilson seemed to be puzzling out the physics. "Or you could bend over a chair or something. I would prefer this, but if you want…"

"No," Wilson interrupted. "I'm just worried about hurting you. Have you, uh, done this a lot?" House's eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Let's say not often, but I didn't come up with this position on my own." That seemed to satisfy Wilson and he went to work becoming House's pretzel. "Perfect. Your ass nice and high," House ran his right hand over Wilson's butt. "It's hard for me to remember this is about you learning a lesson when I want to tap that ass." House gave him a playful pat.

"Do you plan on tapping it soon?"

"Impatient, aren't we?" House smacked Wilson harder than he had up till then. "The longer it takes me to start, the longer until we can have, what did you call it, a 'good time'." House spanked him with increasing intensity until his hand hurt and he realized Wilson was enjoying it again.

"Are you going to think about my feelings next time?" House drew lazy circles on Wilson's reddened ass.

"Are you going to tell me what you want?" House's hand stilled. "Please don't make me bleed," Wilson said earnestly.

"I will. Try to tell you, that is, not the bleeding thing." House felt a little guilty. He'd have to make it up to Wilson. "Get up. Spanking over." Wilson disentangled himself from House and stood unsteadily. He rubbed his ass and winced. "Red is a good color for you." He stretched over and placed a delicate kiss on the heated flesh of Wilson's ass. Wilson's contentment was obvious.

"If only you could get a complete personality change and get your drug use under control!" Wilson snorted. House froze. His eyes steeled.

"What did you say?"

"I'm joking. You don't need to change _anything_." Wilson stopped smiling when he saw the look on House's face.

"Do you want me to change who I am?" House knew the answer, but he wasn't sure what Wilson would say.

"No! I don't want to get into a fight about this. Stop being so sensitive about every little thing I say. You never used to be."

"No, you never paid attention." Wilson looked away. House could feel himself getting angry again. He had promised himself not to get mad at Wilson, but he made it difficult. "Fine, no argument." Wilson looked at him and smiled.

"I won't argue if you won't provoke," Wilson said wagging a finger at House.

House resigned himself to Wilson's attitude. It didn't stop him from being angry, but it convinced him to not feel guilty. On top of which, Wilson seemed to really enjoy being spanked. It was wasted effort and that added to his frustration. Wilson liked it this way? Fine. He'd let himself enjoy it, too. He smiled back at Wilson.

House pointed down. Wilson dropped to his knees in front of him. He ran his hands up the outside of House's thighs working his way up to his waistband. With an almost superhuman effort, House grabbed Wilson's wrists and pried his hands away while keeping his casual air. "I don't recall telling you to touch me." House tossed Wilson's hands towards him. Wilson rocked back on his heels. He licked his lips.

"May I touch you? Please?" House was glad Wilson was getting with the program.

"No." Wilson looked like a truck had driven over his grave. "You may take off my shoes." Wilson attacked his shoes. "Slow down and do it properly. I suppose you're going to waste my time and explain that to you, too," House said with exaggerated exasperation. "Stay on your knees and spread your legs." Wilson spread his legs about 12 inches apart. "That's good. Stay."

House wished he had a leash. He imagined yelling, "Heel, Wilson, good dog." He had to snigger at that idea. Wilson smiled back. House frowned and leaned down face to face with Wilson. "Believe me. You have nothing to smile about." Wilson stopped smiling. House gave him a medium light slap on the jaw. It was a little harder than he planned, but dismissed it as these things happen during war.

House put his left foot in the space between Wilson's knees. On a whim he lifted his foot and hooked it behind Wilson's balls and bounced them as gently as a shoe on genitals can. Wilson's breath hitched. House added that effect to his growing list of Wilson reactions. He sat his foot back on the floor.

"Untie it." Wilson untied it. He grabbed the heel to remove it, but jolted to a stop. "You are so lucky you didn't take off that shoe." House replaced his left foot with his right. He nudged Wilson's balls again. Wilson shuddered. Very nice, House noted.

House switched feet again. Wilson's shoulders tightened expecting another tap. House didn't move. "Take it off." Wilson complied. House ran his socked foot up the underside of Wilson's dick. Wilson's shudder seemed more like a seizure. House switched again and allowed Wilson to remove his right shoe. He didn't move. Wilson was trembling in anticipation. House switched feet without doing anything. "Do you want to take my socks off?"

"Yes." Wilson's voice quivered. House flicked his thumb and middle finger at the top of Wilson's ear. Wilson brought his hand up to his ear and dropped back on his heels. House looked at him questioningly. "Please may I remove your socks?" House put his left foot on Wilson's chest and dragged it slowly down until it reached his cock. He tickled the base with his besocked toes. House was reminded of the bad romance writer cliché "throbbing member". He put his right foot on Wilson's thigh and rubbed it up and down. He moved his left foot to do the same keeping them going in opposite directions. His leg started to bother him so he decided to let Wilson take his socks off. He wasn't going to admit why.

"Take them off." Wilson removed the left sock shakily followed by the right sock even more shakily. House rubbed his naked heels against Wilson's thighs. With his leg protesting, House hooked his right foot behind Wilson scrotum and tapped it in front with his left.

"House," Wilson moaned. House tapped a little harder. On every tap Wilson let out little "oh" sounds. "Oh…oh…oh…oooh…" House stopped. That sounded like Wilson was way too stimulated.

"Get up. Up!" Wilson stood. "Go sit over there." He pointed to the rattan chaise lounge in the corner. Wilson looked at it and looked back at House.

"If I thought denim was scratchy, what do you think I'll say about wicker?"

"Wicker makes it sounds cheap. That's solid hand woven rattan weave. And I didn't ask your opinion. Sit." Wilson didn't move. "I expect you to sit down, be uncomfortable, and get a fun little pattern imprinted on your sweet ass. Sit." Wilson mulled it over for a moment before nodding. He turned and managed to take one step.

"Stop." He stopped. "Since you feel the need to question my orders, I've decided to reevaluate my decision." Wilson turned back to House clearly surprised. "You can crawl over there. And before you get any more bright ideas, you should know I'm getting bored with this. Your only purpose is to entertain me. You're not very entertaining at the moment." House didn't sound angry. From the slight tremble of Wilson lips House guessed his calm demeanor was more chilling.

Wilson eased himself onto the floor and crawled on his hands and knees to the chaise lounge. He stood and carefully sat down. He squirmed a little, but settled down when House was suddenly in front of him.

"Put your hands behind your back." House was pleased at how quickly Wilson responded. He ran a finger down Wilson's face to his chin. He tilted Wilson's face to look at him. He smiled benevolently. "That's a good boy. I think you deserve a treat. Do you think you do?"

"Yes," Wilson said looking up longingly. House quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, please." House stroked Wilson's cheek softly. Wilson nuzzled into it. He kissed the palm of House's hand. House stuck his thumb in Wilson's mouth. He sucked it greedily.

"I seem to recall you promised me a blow job." He rubbed his thumb against Wilson's tongue. Wilson hummed affirmatively. "That's a nice treat for you, letting someone like you suck my cock, lick my dick…I'm not sure." Wilson made eye contact with his best puppy dog eyes. House pretended to consider it. "Okay, I tell you what. I've taken way more Vicodin than you would find acceptable. If you can get me hard, using only your mouth, I'll let you off the chair and we'll move this to the bedroom." House unbuttoned his jeans with one hand and pulled the zipper down half way all the while fondling Wilson's tongue with his thumb. "What do you say to someone who gives you a gift?" House slowly took his thumb out and traced Wilson's lips with it.

"Thank you," Wilson said uncertainly.

"That doesn't sound very appreciative." House countered Wilson's puppy dog eyes with his own laser beam eyes.

"Thank you," Wilson said with feeling. He gulped.

"That's better. Unzip me." Wilson moved his hands from behind his back. "Oh no, keep your hands where they are. Use your teeth on my zipper's teeth." Wilson clearly had no idea how to do that. It reminded House of one of those awful team building exercises where you have to pass a ball to the next person using only your neck and chin. He was surprise when Wilson was able to nudge aside denim with his nose to get a clear run at the zipper. He was more surprised when Wilson latched his teeth onto the zipper pull with only a few tries.

Even with the pull between his teeth it wasn't easy to finish unzipping. House would never say Wilson wasn't tenacious. When he finally finished pulling down the zipper both men seemed pleased with the result.

"Very good! You have a real knack for that." He pulled his jeans and boxers down to just below his hips. He held his cock out in front of Wilson. It was already semi-hard, but House saw a tinge of disappointment in his eyes. "What's wrong," House asked in a truly annoyed voice. Wilson wet his lips.

"I thought you'd already be hard. I'm dying here!" House laughed.

"I'm giving you all this time and effort and you think I should enjoy it? Maybe you should sit there a while and think about that." House put his dick back in his boxers.

"No. Please." Wilson sounded so sincere it elicited unwanted feelings in House.

"Please what? What do you want?"

"I want to suck your dick. Please."

"Tell me about it." Wilson was frozen.

"Um…I want your dick in my mouth." House huffed making it clear that wasn't good enough.

"Do you want to suck me down your throat? Do you want me to fuck your face?"

"Yes. Please. Let me taste you, please." House liked how needy Wilson sounded. He pulled his cock back out of his boxers.

"Lick me. I want it wet." Wilson bent down and stuck his tongue out. He took a tentative lick at the tip. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that. I want it messy." Wilson drooled over House's glans. "That's better. Don't forget the shaft." Wilson moved his mouth building up spit. Starting at the base, Wilson dribbled a thick trail of saliva up the length of House's dick. He returned to flip his tongue up and down, painting House. "That's very good. More of that." Wilson repeated on the other side.

"Spit on my cock. Spit." Wilson spit badly. He tried again with more success. "Now suck it up then blow it out." Wilson slurped up the largest portion of saliva. He returned it and more along House's length blowing saliva bubbles as he went. The sound was obscene. The excess drool dripping off Wilson's chin was nasty. House found it unbelievably hot.

His neat and clean Wilson being so nasty and dirty, it was too much. He pulled Wilson's face up and leaned down to attack his mouth with his. He couldn't help himself. Realizing he'd given Wilson too much, he pulled away, but stayed close.

"Open wide. Show me how wide you can open your mouth." Wilson opened his mouth. "Wider. Wider." Once House was sure Wilson couldn't open any more he spit in Wilson's mouth. Wilson jumped back in shock. House grabbed the back of Wilson's head and pulled him forward. He waited for Wilson to say "no" or "stop" or "get away".

"Keep that pretty mouth open, you dirty little whore. You need some help?" House shoved his dick in Wilson's mouth. His lips closed around it. House slapped his neck. "I said open." Wilson opened his mouth wider again, straining to open wider than House's cock. House thrust in and out not going beyond Wilson's molars until Wilson seemed accustomed to it. House tightened both his hands on Wilson's head and shoved his cock in deep. Wilson gagged. House pulled out of his mouth.

"I'm going to fuck your throat. For your own safety I suggest you keep your mouth open wide, try not to gag, and hope you don't choke to death." He slapped Wilson hard to send home his point. Wilson was breathing heavily, but opened his mouth again. "Good boy." House positioned Wilson's head to have a straighter path. He drove his dick hard until he felt resistance and felt Wilson gagging. "The way you ripple around me when you're choking feels amazing." House began thrusting again. He had to make an effort to not lose control. He didn't want to drown Wilson with his come. Yet.

"Now close and suck," House commanded pulling slowly out of Wilson's mouth and lightening his grip. He let Wilson catch his breath for a brief moment before slowly pushing past Wilson's parted lips. "Suck harder. Hollow out your cheeks." Wilson convulsively swallowed and sucked in harder. House pulled back a little from the suction. "Christ that's good." Wilson moaned something around his cock. "Fuck!" House was barely moving and it was still too much. He had to pull out. Outside of Wilson's mouth he painfully missed it.

Wilson bent forward and rubbed his face against House's leg. At first House thought Wilson wanted the contact, but he realized he was wiping the saliva off his face. House pushed him away.

"Do I look like a towel?"

"What do I get for making you hard?" Wilson was far too eager. He was practically quaking with barely contained energy.

"The warm feeling of a job well done." Wilson gave House a pissy look. House wondered how Wilson thought that would make this any better. "You can crawl to the bedroom." Wilson waited for more directions. "You will crawl now." That was all the direction House was going to give him.

Wilson stood up wincing at the sensation of pulling his ass off the chair. Touching himself he felt the waffle pattern House had predicted. House stared at him then pointed to the floor with his eyes. Wilson lowered himself to the floor and started to crawl.

"This is really bad on my knees," Wilson whined.

"Then you should rest a minute." House stooped down and glided his fingertips along the imprint the chair had caused. He moved slowly so Wilson could feel each peak and valley. Wilson's breath came in stuttered puffs. "I told you it would make a fun pattern. I thought you looked good in red, but you look even better in a red print." House couldn't stay in that position much longer. He put a hand on Wilson's back for support.

He sensually licked a path along one to the deeper grooves. He picked a spot and laved it with extra attention. House made sure that small area was wet before pulling back until his lips were only a few millimeters from Wilson's flesh. He inhaled deeply through his mouth. Wilson's back arched and he moaned. House bit the same spot then roughly sucked it. He couldn't help but wonder what Wilson's other lovers over the next few days would think of the mark. He supposed it was too much to ask for one of them to be outraged to find out she wasn't the only piece of fruit in Wilson's salad.

House had a hard time standing, but managed it without asking for help. He welcomed the pain to distract him from how badly he wanted to slam into Wilson.

"That's enough of a rest for your knees. Get crawling." Wilson crawled across the floor. House took a moment to enjoy the sway of his hips and the way Wilson's hard cock waved with each step. "Damn, you're sexy. You're sexier than any hooker I've ever hired." Wilson blushed over his flushed face. He accentuated the swing of his butt. "You are so bad. Even after being punished you're still a hot, nasty harlot." House waited for Wilson to get a good lead before hobbling after him. Once in the bedroom, Wilson stopped and awaited his instructions. House could definitely get used to that.

"Get up. Lie down on the bed on your back. Get in the middle. Good. Put your hands behind your head. That's it. I want you to stay just like that." Wilson was smiling like an idiot. House could tell he was dying for House to do, well, anything to him.

"Comfy? Good. I'll be back." House turned and walked out of the bedroom closing the door behind him.

House made his way to the living room clearly amused. He wondered how long Wilson would wait before giving up on him returning. That put a song in his heart. He popped a much deserved pill.

He picked up the bag of groceries Wilson had brought and took them to the kitchen. House opened the fridge and stood in front of it. He concentrated on the cold, the moldy luncheon meat, and anything he could think of to kill his erection. Once he was soft enough to comfortably stuff himself back into his pants he put the groceries away to further distract him.

At 11 minutes, Wilson called out for him. After a moment's hesitation, House decided he would be more benevolent than Wilson and not make him wait another 5 minutes for an answer. He went to the bedroom.

"Did you say something," House asked from the doorway.

"I was worried you weren't coming back." House moved into the room and sat on the bed.

"I wouldn't do that to you! I had to take care of some more important things." Wilson clearly didn't think there was anything more important than him. House was disappointed Wilson didn't seem to connect the dots from yesterday. Clearly Wilson wasn't very bright once he was in fuck mode, as if House needed any more proof.

"I stayed on the bed just like you said."

"Yep. Sure did."

"So…"

"Yeah, so…Do I need to tell you 'good job'? Do you expect kudos for doing what you are supposed to do?"

"I was hoping I'd get a treat." Wilson waggled his eyebrows. It always made House laugh, always, but not this time. He made himself stay neutral.

"What kind of treat do you think you deserve for not doing the wrong thing?" Wilson sucked his lips inward before speaking.

"I thought you'd let me touch you some more, maybe with my hands." House shook his head. "Maybe let me take your clothes off."

"I don't think so." House stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed.

"Can I at least take your shirt off?" Wilson was desperate. House sat on the bed. He crept closer to Wilson.

"Why would I want to do that? I like this shirt. I'm not going to let you do anything to me." House reached out and walked his fingers across Wilson's chest. "On the other hand, it's my dime and I can do anything I want to you." He pinched a nipple. "I can help myself to your body." House scraped his nails down Wilson's side. "I can do anything that amuses me." House dragged the back of his hand under Wilson's exposed arm. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wilson's dick twitch.

He climbed completely onto the bed and lay down on his side next to, but not touching Wilson. He kissed a trail from Wilson's elbow to his arm pit. Wilson made an appreciative sound. House brought his body against Wilson's side. He reached across Wilson's chest to his other arm and tickled him. Wilson instinctively brought his arms down. House stopped and slapped Wilson's chest, his fingers connecting with a nipple.

"I said to keep your hands behind your head." Wilson stretched his arms out then returned to his approved position. House brought his face close to Wilson's. "I bet you didn't keep them there the whole time I was gone. I'm not a sadist, you know. I just like controlling you, enjoying you on my terms." He rubbed a stubbled cheek against Wilson's clean shaven face. "I thought about leaving you here and going out to eat or to a movie. There would be some satisfaction knowing I left you here like you left me, but then I realized that would mean I wouldn't get to indulge myself with your flesh." House moved his hand up and down Wilson's torso.

"I'm sorry I left. I wouldn't have left if you'd asked me to stay. I would have stayed all night and done anything you wanted. Please don't hold it against me." House had seen Wilson look that sincere before, but it was rare to hear it in his voice at the same time. He was near tears. House didn't know if it was an act, but he decided he'd rather live in that reality at least for the moment.

"How's this? Now that I know how much you like me telling you what to do I'll let you know when you can leave." He kissed Wilson's cheek. Wilson closed his eyes.

"That sounds perfect." He turned his face to House's. House pecked Wilson's lips softly.

"Is it okay if I kiss you," House asked solemnly. Wilson snickered.

"You can do anything you want to my body and as a doctor I can assure you my lips are part of my body." Wilson pressed their lips together. House didn't need any more invitation. He rolled on top of Wilson, using his elbows to pin Wilson's. He grabbed his head further trapping Wilson's hands behind it. House had never looked so dangerous.

House attacked his lips, ravaged his mouth. He charted every tract of Wilson's mouth with his tongue then returned for a lazy tour. Wilson tried to parry House's moves, but he couldn't match House's constantly changing tactics. Wilson became more passive allowing House to pillage his mouth and lips at will.

Breaking off his latest attack, House outlined Wilson's lips with the tip of his tongue. He could get used to the way Wilson panted. He pulled back to look at his handiwork. Wilson's lips were plumping nicely.

"You have beautiful lips." House moved in for a simple kiss. He moved away when Wilson's tongue touched his bottom lip. "You'd be astounded how much extra I've paid for kissing." He stroked Wilson's lips with the pad of his index finger. Wilson kissed it. House looked into his eyes and if he didn't know better, and he definitely knew better, he'd think Wilson was looking at him with something more sentimental than simple passion. Then again, maybe he was being too hard on Wilson.

"Are you going to take your clothes off now?" Nope. It was misinterpreted lust.

"Do you have someplace you need to be?"

"Noooo, but my balls are turning blue here." House sat up and looked down at Wilson.

"They don't look blue to me."

"Come on, House," Wilson whined thrusting his pelvis. "Don't you want to take off your clothes and rub our bodies together?"

"I'm still not seeing why that should interest me." House sounded indifferent to the situation. Wilson moved his arms from behind his head. He propped himself up on his elbows.

"What would interest you? Do you want to tie me up? Maybe put something inside me? I bet you have all kinds of kinky toys."

"You _are_ my kinky toy. How does that make you feel?" To himself, House added how does it feel to be less than human like you make me feel when you act like I'm a diagnostic machine.

"Lucky. Take your clothes off." Wilson sat up completely. He started pulling up House's shirt. House stood up to get out of reach. He went to the nightstand. He rummaged around in the drawer until he found what he was looking for. He tossed it at Wilson who caught it in a fumbling grasp.

"Wet Platinum?"

"Use about a 100th of what you used yesterday." Wilson enthusiastically turned over on his knees, lowered and propped his head and upper chest on a pillow, and stuck his ass out for display.

"Maybe you should do it for me." He wiggled wantonly. House's first thought was to go over and give Wilson a demonstration of hard, dry fucking. His second thought was to lube up his fingers and fist fuck him. His third thought was to tell Wilson to do it himself. Luckily for Wilson, House had a very quick mind and he was able to get to the third thought before putting either of the first two into motion.

"Maybe you should shut up and do it for yourself while I watch." Wilson sat up and looked momentarily disappointed. Then he looked mischievous. House was eager to see what Wilson had in mind, but he kept up his indifferent façade.

Wilson sat up on his knees and opened the bottle. He sniffed it. He apparently didn't find it offensive because he turned at the waist and stretched an arm behind him to drip the liquid at the top of his crack.

"Not too much," House reminded. Wilson turned back and made a show of closing the bottle and setting it aside. He bent over again and spread his cheeks for House. The liquid trickled a shiny trail down. Wilson's ass with the pattern mostly faded and enough color to attract him on display for him made it harder for House to maintain his detached air. He practically tore his shirt off.

Wilson propped himself on one arm and reached back with the other through his legs. He moaned as he snaked his hand past his erection and balls. He curved his back. Wilson rubbed his anus with two fingers. He moaned louder. House pulled his pants off without looking away. Wilson pushed a finger into his opening only up to the first knuckle. He groaned lewdly. House was compelled to reach out and touch Wilson's ass.

"I'll never make fun of you taking yoga again." He bit the hickey he'd left earlier.

"Yes, House, touch me. Want you!" House moved his hand away.

"Roll over." House picked up the bottle of lube. "Over, now." Wilson turned over excitedly. "Give me your hand." Wilson held out his left hand. House turned it palm side up and squeezed a dollop of fluid into it. "Make me wet again."

Wilson didn't need to have the order repeated. He grabbed House's cock and twisted his hand stroking him roughly and coating his cock. House grabbed Wilson's wrist staying his hand.

"That'll do. Lie back." Wilson laid back and stretched before settling with his legs slightly parted. His mouth twitched trying to suppress the dopey smile he'd had earlier. House definitely did not find it cute no matter who asked and that included himself. He turned to the bedside table to bite his lip in private. He pulled out a condom and tore it open with his teeth.

"What are you doing?" Wilson sounded perplexed. That perplexed House.

"I was thinking about doing you the honor of having my dick up your ass. Is that a problem?"

"No, no, not at all," Wilson quickly answered propping himself up on his elbows. "You, ah, don't need a condom."

"Sure I do." House pulled the condom out dramatically.

"No, it's okay. I want to feel you." House laughed.

"And I don't want to get any cooties. I believe in the old adage 'Wrap that rascal'." He rolled on the condom. Wilson looked indignant.

"I don't have any 'cooties'. I'm sure you don't have any."

"I'm sure you thought that about everybody else you fucked. I shouldn't have let you drool all over me and I don't know what I was thinking about kissing you. Do you have any idea how many diseases can be transmitted orally? Haven't you spent any time in the clinic? And not just STDs. The human mouth is a breeding ground for all kinds of cooties."

"House, talking about disease isn't a turn on for me." Wilson stared at House's dick. "Even if it does get you off."

House pushed Wilson's legs further apart, roughly forced himself between them, and shoved Wilson's shoulders knocking him off his elbows.

"You know what gets me off? Knowing that in about 10 seconds you're going to be moaning my name." House lowered on top of Wilson in an obscene push up. He rubbed his cock against Wilson's.

"Hoooussse," Wilson moaned. House looked down on him smugly.

"And in under 20 seconds you're going to gasp and say my name," House said in a low, dark voice. He kept his pelvis down, but moved his hands to Wilson's chest sensually. He moved his hands back up slowly then grabbed his nipples hard. Wilson gasped.

"House!" House took a moment to gloat. He pulled away from Wilson.

"Move down a little." Wilson wriggled towards the edge of the bed. House shuffled between Wilson's legs. "This isn't going to be very comfortable for either of us, but I'll be too busy to care." House gripped Wilson's knees and pulled up. Wilson bent his legs in response. House hooked his elbows behind Wilson's knees. "If it makes it easier, put your feet on my shoulders. They're stronger than you might think."

"I love your shoulders – so broad, strong." Wilson was breathing heavy. He lifted his left ankle and rubbed it along House's shoulder. "They remind me of a Greek statue."

Oh please, House thought, more Hephaestus than Adonis. If he wasn't busy with other plans he would have called Wilson on it. He pulled Wilson's leg down spreading him apart wider.

House rubbed his finger around Wilson's opening. He rubbed his thumb over Wilson's perineum. He made slow gentle circles. Wilson sighed.

"Ever try prostate milking?" Never mind. We'll save that in case we do this again someday." He pushed down hard. Wilson ground his teeth together. House pushed his index finger into Wilson then slowly pulled out.

"In about 20 seconds you are going to scream my name," House said in an even lower voice. Wilson chuckled. House leaned in and pressed the tip of his cock against Wilson's anus. "10 seconds." House didn't wait 10 seconds. He pushed forward on the back of Wilson's thighs and slammed into him.

"House," Wilson screamed. House growled.

"Told you so," House huffed. He pulled back, but not out. "So good – tight, perfectly wet…" House pushed in and held. "Look at me." He plunged in three times in rapid succession never taking his eyes of Wilson's face. "Your eyes are such a beautiful color. I've always wanted to tell you that."

House untangled his arms from Wilson's legs causing Wilson to wince. House was breathing heavily. He knew it would be ending soon, too soon, but all good things…usually happen to somebody else.

House flattened his body against Wilson and slid his arms around Wilson's back and grabbed his shoulders from behind. He could feel Wilson's cock throbbing against his stomach.

"You've been so good." House kissed Wilson's chin. He leaned up putting more weight on Wilson. He panted into Wilson's ear. "Tell me what you want as a treat for being so sweet." He sat up a little and began rocking from side to side. Wilson whimpered. He had trouble talking.

"Come…make me…House!" His name came out as a wail combining pain and pleasure. The sound was almost enough to finish House.

House sat up all the way and awkwardly transferred his weight to his left leg and his right arm planted next to Wilson. The movement made Wilson moan. He wrapped his left hand around Wilson's dick. He pumped Wilson roughly against his stomach timing each stroke with each shove into his ass.

Both men mumbled an incoherent litany of swear words and babblings. House's eyes were squinched shut. His movements seemed synchronized to music only he could hear. He played for several measures until the crescendo of his orgasm marked a change in meter. House continued stroking Wilson more through movement memory than conscious effort. It didn't take much before Wilson's cries raised an octave. He shook violently and covered House's chest and stomach with saved up semen. House continued pumping his fist until he felt Wilson's body go slack. He collapsed on top of him.

House rested for a minute then rocked side to side. House got up and scraped some clinging come off his chest. He flung the excess at Wilson's torso.

"Nice," Wilson said sarcastically between breaths. House smiled.

"Yes it was." After a languorous stretch he collapsed on the bed next to Wilson. Neither spoke or moved for a while. House thought that might be his favorite part – post orgasm Wilson quiet time.

"Didn't you say last night we should cut out the bullshit foreplay?" Wilson reached for House's hand.

"I didn't plan on this turning into another cheap screw." House slowly pulled his hand away and stretched his arms over his head. Wilson rolled onto his side. He ran his hand up and down House's chest. House hoped Wilson wouldn't get too close to his ticklish spot again.

"This was not just another cheap screw," Wilson said bringing his face close to House's. House sat up quickly and began fumbling in the seemingly bottomless bedside table. He pulled out an envelope and opened it. He turned back to Wilson and tossed several bills at him. Wilson sat up with the guileless confusion House had come to expect from their interactions.

"What's this?"

"I'm assuming you're still billing out at $400 an hour. You should really ask for the money up front."

"Wait a minute, House," Wilson said. House held up a hand then pulled out several more bills and handed them to Wilson. He didn't take them.

"That kind of action usually costs a lot more. You earned it!" House threw the money on the bed. House limped towards the door. He turned around at the doorway. "I almost forgot. You can leave now." He walked to the bathroom and closed the door.

House couldn't look at himself in the mirror. He wished things could be different. But if wishes were horses even Hercules couldn't clean the stables. If Wilson thought this was his fantasy he had no idea about who House was. That made him laugh. He had spent more hours with Wilson than any other person on the planet and the man still didn't know him.

It's my own fault, he thought. I could have talked to him more, really talking. At least I got the last word and when I don't see him again I'll have the satisfaction that I told him to go. And I can't blame him. Hell, I didn't know he was into the rough trade so how could he know what I want. I am such a screw up. I should have…let it go, House. What's done is done.

He licked the dried semen on his hand. Wilson tasted like he imagined he would. He imagined what his dad would say about his romantic, homosexual dreams. That made him feel worse in a different way that was, for once, refreshing.

Eventually House decided he had to move. He'd given Wilson plenty of time to get dressed and out the door. He cleaned himself off with a wash cloth. He'd take a shower later. He wanted to keep at least the scent of Wilson marinade around for a while.

His leg had completely locked up and helped distract him. He moved stiffly. In the bedroom House found fresh clothes. He also found a spunk stained comforter. At least Wilson left him a memento. He noted there wasn't any money on the bed.

He needed to get out of that room. He hurriedly got dressed and went in search of protein and fluids. House vaguely remembered he had some awful tasting PowerAde in the fridge. That reminded him of the chicken Wilson brought. If Wilson didn't take it with him, and House really hoped he did, he could cook it. It would take his mind off things. He could cook when he had to. It was creative chemistry. If it didn't involve prep and clean up he'd do it more often. Luckily Wilson usually…maybe cooking wasn't a good idea.

The empty living room depressed him in its own way. Was there a single piece of furniture that didn't whisper "Wilson" at him? Nope, everything was Wilson infused. He was shaken out of his malaise by a sound in the kitchen. There was Wilson, his hair a mess and fully dressed with some flour on his sweatshirt. He looked totally wrecked, but was smiling.

"Hey," he offered when he saw House.

"Hey," seemed the only appropriate response.

"I'm going to make some extra spätzle. I don't think this recipe really serves four." Wilson acted like it was a typical Saturday night.

"Didn't I tell you to leave." House asked wondering if maybe he hadn't said it out loud and had caught a break.

"No, you said I _could_ leave. I decided to stay. I haven't had dinner yet." Wilson didn't look away from the stove.

House didn't know what to say. "Thank you for not leaving." "I'm starving." "Never forget I'm not good with people." "Wasn't spätzle a favorite of Hitler?" He could see himself saying any of them, but none sounded like what he really wanted to say. Wilson turned off the burner.

"Stop thinking. You've got to work on that, House." House was still mute. "How's this – I'm having a special today and you've paid for three more hours. I couldn't sleep with myself if you didn't get your money's worth, especially when I could be sleeping with you." Wilson waggled his eyebrows. This time House laughed.

"You're a bargain. I hope your pimp doesn't get mad." House took a few pained steps towards Wilson.

"Cuddy doesn't mind if I bring in a repeat customer." Wilson closed the gap between them. "Besides, I promised to fulfill your fantasy and I still don't know what that is." He put one hand on House's neck and the other on his waist. He leaned in and kissed him. He broke the kiss before it could grow out of control. "Why don't you get off that leg and I'll come get you when dinner's ready." He kissed House's cheek. "I think I might be able to get this done in 20 more minutes. It's really easy." Wilson opened a cabinet and pulled down a bottle of olive oil House assumed he had left on a previous cooking spree. It was all too normal. He started to hobble to the living room and his Vicodin, but stopped.

"So why did you really stay?" House sounded curious, but suspicious. Wilson looked at him and smiled that dopey smile House was still not going to admit was cute and made his insides quake.

"You said you love me unconditionally until you find a condition. Apparently, me being a jerk and a depraved whore isn't that condition." Wilson turned back to the stove.

"I can live with that," House said. He was pretty sure he'd never find that condition.


End file.
